


Game Night

by Demerite



Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: Crack, F/M, Game Night, Humor, M/M, Prompt Fill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-02
Updated: 2015-06-02
Packaged: 2018-04-02 14:41:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4063780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Demerite/pseuds/Demerite
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Porthos is cheating again. d'Artagnan is too competitive. Aramis tries to make up his own rules. Athos despairs of it all.</p><p>Monopoly has a lot to answer for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Game Night

**Author's Note:**

> For a prompt on bbcmusketeerskink.

Everything was prepared. Porthos had brought the pizza, Aramis had turned up with a bag full of strange international snacks from the store down the street, d’Artagnan was in charge of the non-alcoholic drinks, and Athos turned up with a few bottles of wine. Constance had baked, leaving cookies on the bench before she headed off to her girls night out with Anne and some of her other friends.

“So,” Aramis said, settling himself on the couch next to Porthos, “What are we playing?”

d’Artagnan pulled a large flat box out from under the coffee table, presenting it with a flourish.

“Oh no.” Athos sighed, draining his wine glass in one go and reaching for the bottle for a refill.

“Oh yes.” Porthos grinned, rubbing his hands together in delight. He helped d’Artagnan set up the board and sort through the various cards, pieces and notes.

“This is a terrible idea.” Athos told Aramis, who shrugged in response,

“Sometimes, my friend, you have to live a little.” He took the monopoly money that d’Artagnan passed him, and began to sort through it.

“Come on Athos, it’ll be fun!” d’Artagnan insisted, passing Athos his own division of the paper money.

“Fine,” Athos sighed, taking the notes and sorting through them, dividing them into neat piles, “But don’t say I didn't warn you.” He added.

***

 

Two hours later, the lounge room was in chaos.

“You cheated!” Aramis cried, waving a throw cushion in Porthos’ direction with violent intent. Porthos laughed.

“Did not!” He insisted, “It was sheer luck, now give me your money.”

“No!” Aramis grabbed his dwindling pile of money and held it close to his chest, like a petulant dragon with his hoard, “You cheated! Tell him d’Artagnan!”

 

d’Artagnan was too busy strategising to listen to him.

“Fine then!” Aramis huffed dramatically, “If you can play by your rules, I can play by mine.” And with that, he promptly hurled the throw pillow he had been brandishing at Porthos’ head, and in the resulting confusion managed to steal a handful of Porthos’ money, and knocked one of his hotels off the board.

“Gentlemen!” Athos attempted, but no-one was listening to him.

Porthos had retaliated by putting Aramis in a headlock and mussing his hair violently, which, judging by the muffled shrieking Aramis was letting out, was not appreciated.

d’Artagnan meanwhile, had come up with a strategy to win this game once and for all, provided the others paid attention and actually played the game properly.

“Aramis! Porthos!” He snapped, “Stop mucking around!”

 

The two tussling on the sofa separated, Aramis making offended noises and smoothing down his hair. Porthos was grinning, and the moment Aramis turned his attention to d’Artagnan, Porthos put his hotel firmly back on the board once more.

“Alright.” d’Artagnan said, “Athos, it’s your turn.”

“I've quit.” Athos insisted, reaching out and removing his piece from the board.

“But you can’t!” d’Artagnan cried, “The game isn't finished yet!”

Athos waved and languid hand, and refilled his wine glass, “There’s still three of you.”

d’Artagnan sighed, and turned back to the others, “Right.” he said sternly, “Porthos, no more cheating, Aramis, stop making the rules up as you go, just read them.” He thrust the rule book at Aramis, and reached for the dice - as Athos had quit, it was his turn again. He was going to win this.

***

They lasted another forty-five minutes. Really, it was quite impressive.

By the time Constance arrived home, her lounge room had become a battlefield. Porthos had claimed the couch, and was defending his conduct in the game - loudly, and with the aid of the throw cushions. Aramis was perched on one of the armchairs, firing insults and game pieces in Porthos’ direction with equal accuracy. Athos was snoring in the other armchair, probably drunk. d’Artagnan was seated on the floor, head bent over the board and its few remaining pieces, muttering furiously to himself.

“What is going on?” Constance asked, hands braced on her hips.

Three sets of eyes flew guiltily to her, and as one, the men flinched.

“Really.” she sighed, “I can’t even leave you alone for one evening. How on earth did this happen?”

“My apologies.” Aramis removed himself from his perch on the armchair, and started to collect monopoly pieces from the carpet, “Porthos was cheating, and I felt I should show him the error of his ways.”

Porthos snorted, “Cheating?” he asked, also beginning to collect pieces, “What were you doing then?”

“Creative interpretation.” Aramis retorted smartly.

“Yeah, of the rules.” d’Artagnan muttered darkly.

“And him?” Constance gestured to Athos, who stirred in his sleep, but did not wake.

“Gave up completely.” Aramis poured a handful of the little plastic houses back into the box, “Best decision really.”

Constance sighed, utterly at a loss with how to deal with her husband and his ridiculous friends. She adored the lot of them, of course, but sometimes she wondered how they got into the situations they managed to. Some of it just belied belief.

“Alright.” Constance said, “I’ll deal with him, the rest of you can clean up this mess.” She crossed to Athos’ armchair and shook him until he woke, “Come on.” She told him firmly, “Your wife is outside, and if I were you I wouldn't keep her waiting.”

Athos mumbled something and lurched to his feet, nearly toppling over again, but Constance caught him and steadied him, helping him walk towards the front door.

By the time Constance returned from seeing Athos out, the lounge room was in somewhat of a better state. The monopoly board and pieces had been tidied away back into the box, d’Artagnan and Aramis were taking the dirty dishes into the kitchen and Porthos was placing the throw cushions back on the couch with a sheepish look on his face.

Aramis and Porthos farewelled them soon after, Aramis apologizing wholeheartedly for his conduct.

“My apologies Madame,” He said earnestly, “I don’t know what came over me.”

“Monopoly,” Constance said, standing in the doorway and watching Aramis and Porthos make their way down the garden path to their car, “Has a lot to answer for.”

“You've got that right.” d’Artagnan agreed.


End file.
